As an extremely callow young woman in the '80s, I used to make fun of Stevie Nicks as some sort of hippie holdover (my horror similar to the scene in "Sid and Nancy" [1986] when the punk Nancy runs down the street screaming in despair, "I look like Stevie Nicks!").
As I just now discovered, though, at a late age: This Stevie Nicks song is beautiful and profound. I got goosebumps, I thought about my entire life. (And what did Nancy Spungen ever do for me...)
So I'm back, to the velvet underground
Back to the floor, that I love
To a room with some lace and paper flowers
Back to the gypsy that I was
To the gypsy... that I was
And it all comes down to you
Well, you know that it does
Well, lightning strikes, maybe once, maybe twice
Ah, and it lights up the night
And you see your gypsy
You see your gypsy
To the gypsy that remains
Faces freedom with a little fear
I have no fear, I have only love
And if I was a child
And the child was enough
Enough for me to love
Enough to love
She is dancing away from me now
She was just a wish
She was just a wish
And a memory is all that is left for you now
You see your gypsy
You see your gypsy
Lightning strikes, maybe once, maybe twice
And it all comes down to you
And it all comes down to you
Lightning strikes, maybe once, maybe twice
And it all comes down to you
I still see your bright eyes, bright eyes
And it all comes down to you
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